


Kindergarten Woes

by Twirling_Cones



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: M/M, Might be a bit ooc, They're in kindergarten, short short short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-29
Updated: 2019-01-19
Packaged: 2019-09-29 23:08:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17212589
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Twirling_Cones/pseuds/Twirling_Cones
Summary: Bill doesn't understand a lot of things. Nor does he understand his urge to talk to this particular fleshbag.





	1. Chapter 1

Bill did not understand a lot of things.

For one, he couldn’t understand the need for other shapes than triangles. Neither could he understand the need for adults worrying about pieces of paper money. Gold overthrew all forms of currency anyway, and the things they really should be worrying about wasn’t worried about enough, like how could every piece of Lego could fit into each other despite their size? Why are ladybugs called ladybugs? Those were the things that Bill did not get either.

So when he found a fleshbag - excuse him, friend - sobbing profusely at the corner of the playroom, it wasn’t like he was supposed to understand that too, right?

Tentatively, he walked closer to the boy. With a messy mop of brown curls on his head, the boy looked around the same age as Bill, Bill supposed.

The boy took no notice of him, fat droplets of tears sliding down his reddish cheeks as he curled in on himself. As his face was tilted at an angle towards the floor, the brown tendrils that fell from the top of his head managed to hide most of his face from Bill’s view. Out of a sudden urge of curiosity, Bill went closer to see him.

When he approached about a metre away from the boy, he realised that perhaps, the boy seemed familiar. Really familiar. 

Then, it all clicked into place. The blue cap with that weird white Christmas tree. The red shirt tucked underneath a navy blue vest.

“It’s you!” Bill yelled suddenly, more from impulse than anything. 

That seemed to draw out a reaction from the boy. He lifted his head to look at Bill for a moment. Silence reigned as they stared at each other, both of their faces scrunched up in confusion.

“You’re the one with that weird tattoo on your forehead!” 

It was then Bill realised, yet again, that he may or may not have spoken the wrong words. At the wrong time. He winced.

However, contrary to what Bill had expected was going to happen (which is the boy bursting into a new fit of tears), the brown-haired boy just shot back irritatedly, “Why are you even calling it that?”

Bill paused. “Isn’t that what it is?”

“No, it isn’t.” He seemed really agitated. “It’s a birthmark.”

“What?” Bill said, disbelieving. “I thought you drew that yourself!"

The boy huffed, cheeks puffing out in exasperation. His tears were now long forgotten. He got up from his corner - slowly when he realised that his legs felt a little numb from sitting so long - and merely just walked away without another word. To put it more accurately, he stalked away.

Bill huffed himself, putting his hands on his hips. He had wanted to introduce himself to the boy. Or at the very least, get to know his name. He seemed more interesting than the other tiny vessels running around this place.

 

Guess he’ll just have to wait until the next playtime.


	2. More mayhem

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Right before snack time ends, Dipper hears a shriek from the classroom.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This isn't really connected to the first chapter, but just putting them together anyway
> 
> I know this is really quick but okay

Snack time had nearly ended.

Dipper was about to take the last few bites of his sandwich (without the pickles, of course) when he heard someone shriek from the classroom.

“They’re gone!” 

Instantly, every kid in the lunchroom bolted out in a mad frenzy towards the source of the sound, and Dipper was none the wiser. He followed them towards the classroom, and the herd of around fifteen kindergarteners stopped short upon seeing a girl with red pigtails standing outside the door, her eyes wide with panic.

“Choco and Honey are gone!” she exclaimed, terror buzzing in her tone.

Choco and Honey were the class’ pet guinea pigs. They lived in the wide cage on the long table next to the windows of the class. Each day, someone was assigned to feed them. But today….

Dipper blinked as the whole flock of kindergarteners fell into utter disarray and chaos. The epitome of going berserk. Like mice, they scattered around the premises of the building to search for the beloved class pets before any teachers could get their say on the matter.

“They must be here somewhere!”

“Are they there… they’re not. What about there?”

“We need to save them!”

“They might die!”

“Choco?! Honey?!!”

“How did this happen?”

Dipper had a sinking suspicion in his gut. Carefully, he slipped out from the hysterical crowd and avoided the frenzied teachers trying to calm everyone in vain. 

He went back to the lunchroom, and silently opened the backdoor there. Then, he saw them. The guinea pigs.

 

 

And Bill.

 

Bill was all alone, playing with Choco and Honey quietly at the small pebbled path between the behind of the kindergarten and the back fence. There were about five stray cats surrounding him too, some laying on their sides and some watching him silently.

Dipper could still hear the turmoil pouring from within. The sounds of panic caused by the missing pets only served to grow and grow. He narrowed his eyes at Bill, who was still sitting innocently, petting them, uncaring of anything whatsoever.

“I plan to keep them,” Bill said, after a while. Dipper noticed that he was secretly grinning to himself.

What a demon.

Dipper gave him a look, even though Bill’s attention seemed to be fixed on the guinea pigs as they purred underneath his touch. 

“You know you shouldn’t do that,” he said bluntly, knowing that Bill knew but probably wasn’t going to accept that anyway. 

Bill hummed. “I’ll have my ways to do it.”

Dipper stood still for a moment, contemplating. Then, after ensuring that the backdoor was shut, he went over to Bill and sat beside him.

Bill passed him Honey. With one guinea pig in each of their laps, they petted them to their hearts’ content, peacefully tuning out the muted cries, wails and howls in their kindergarten.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ...And then they eloped with the guinea pigs and lived happily ever after.
> 
> Is Bill being a really bad influence on Dipper
> 
> Not going to be so free anymore so that's probably it.
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. Frustration

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bill was waiting for lunchtime. But looking at the clock, he wasn't sure how long that would take.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bill still doesn't know Dipper's name in this. So there's that. And it's mostly about Bill getting frustrated.

Bill glanced at the clock. It read a quarter past eleven, or so he thought. He was only vaguely certain of the time, having struggled from telling apart all the different numbers and what they meant. 

He just knew that once both hands reached the figure at the top, Miss Felicia would let them go for lunch time. But he had not even the slightest clue on how long it would take. Would it take minutes, hours, or days? Months maybe? 

How long was a month again? Was it longer than this lesson?

He thinks back. Probably not.

Honestly, he really wasn’t sure why adults placed so much significance on time. It made little sense why they kept following the clock like mindless slaves every day. Couldn’t they just do whatever they wanted to do, whenever they liked?

‘It must be dull being an adult,’ he thought to himself.

He made a face at that. 

He drew his attention back to the teacher, feeling the stirrings of frustration, hot in his gut. He really, really wanted the lesson to just pass by. Hadn’t Ms Felicia already been through this? He watched the hands of the clock tick, and they did, but it was too slow for him. Agonizingly slow.

He felt tormented and targeted by the world. Why couldn’t things move faster? Every tick sent a bolt of impatience to his mind, and he felt cruelly mocked. This was gratuitous torture for a kindergartener, and the small canister of a mind that he had could only accommodate so much restlessness before it burst.

He crumpled the side of the paper on his table in a sudden surge of agitation, bending one corner of the sheet backwards before smoothing it out. Then, he folded it again, but the dog ear was on top of the sheet this time.

He repeated it, and that seemed to distract him from his irritation for a moment, but then the edge of the paper got ripped off his page, and something in him snapped.

He felt himself seethe, the frustration in him amplifying tenfold.

Bill looked up to see if the hands of the clock had relocated themselves yet, and to his astonishment they hadn’t budged. Not even by a little.

But then the astonishment morphed into rage, and his face contorted into one of sheer anger. Unfettered fury wrapped its spindly fingers around his throat and rendered his tongue immobile as it laid at the floor of his mouth, useless. 

He felt like screaming his lungs out all of a sudden, waves of frustration needling at him. But he felt too angry to even utter a word, so he simply sat there, mad at everything. Everything that was too dull, too mundane. Too slow, not fast enough. He felt like his soul was being drained out of him as the clock dragged on. 

Were the hands even moving? He hoped they did, but a seed of doubt had already taken roots in his mind. Rage continued to thrum inside his veins, fiery and all-encompassing. 

For a split second, the blonde lost control and set one of his classmate’s hair on fire. It was more of a few sparks than a flame that singed that fleshbag’s platinium white hair, but it was enough to sizzle and hiss for a while before it died down.

Bill ignored it, knowing that he never liked that hairdo anyway. 

“Hey.” In the midst of his anger, he whipped around to see the brunet that had approached him once before. He furrowed his eyebrows, trying to school his expression into one of nonchalance. 

He watched as the brunet offered him a sincere smile. Eyes wide, Bill immediately turned around, away from the brunet and towards the teacher, not knowing why that smile sent funny feelings up his spine.

For a moment, the initial storm of his roaring emotions abated, and he found himself settling back into his seat, a little more comfortably this time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> Should probably do something more useful now.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After question after question after question, Mabel reaches a conclusion. She hands Dipper a card.
> 
>  
> 
> She rigged it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aw man these are getting slightly longer every time.

“I don’t know!” was Dipper’s response when he was approached by his twin sister. He didn’t like confronting his feelings, preferring to let them fester away in a pit of self-pity as he drowned them out with the ice cream from snack time, but Mabel’s insistence was iron toughened by her will of steel.

She had been barraging him with incessant questions about Bill, from the breakfast to the car journey to school to their class to their snack time to their nap time to their play time, and he really didn’t know how to answer her. Now they were in the garden, tasked with watering the plants.

He fiddled with the hem of his shirt, sighing defeatedly. “I really don’t know.”

Mabel nodded understandingly, pulling out the card that she had tucked her uniform pocket. She pushed it into his palms.

“Think you need this. For him.”

With that, she resumed as if nothing had transpired between them, bouncing away from him on her heels with the vigour of unicorns and rainbows, all the while giggling mischievously. Belatedly, Dipper realised that she had foisted the burden of watering the plants on his shoulders to do it alone. 

But curiosity overwhelmed him, and he felt the urge to see what she had given him. Did she say the card was for Bill?

He unfolded the card. Adorned in excessive, over-the-top amounts of glitters, the card read:

“Do you like me?”

Along with it came the scribbled crayon-writing of “Yasss!!”, “Definitely!!!” and “ABSOLUTELY!!!!”, each accompanied with an empty square box at the side, and Dipper blinked at the card for a moment, unsure of what Mabel’s intentions were.

Pondering on whether to head in the direction that she had left, then quickly realising that she had mysteriously vanished into thin air, only left him twice as dumbfounded.

He looked at the letter again. Maybe he should -

 

Then his hand was on fire. 

 

Dipper squawked, relinquishing his hold on the card. It fell onto the grass with a sizzle, flames consuming it whole, hissing at him like a cat, daring him to retrieve it from their hungry fingers. The flames grew larger and larger, wrapping themselves around the card, not unlike serpents, until the card was burnt completely into a crisp. 

Dipper swallowed at the sight of black charred remains on the grass as the flames died. There went Mabel’s hard work, up in flames. 

The shock didn’t last long as Dipper came around his senses, narrowing his eyes. 

“Bill.” It came out more as an accusation than an address.

Bill, who was seemingly idly walking around the garden with a strange proximity to Dipper, paused in his tracks.

“What?” Bill replied coolly, nonchalance disguising his tone. “Was someone giving it to you?” he spat with all the passive-aggressiveness a five-year-old could possibly muster. “Some fleshbag whom you _like_?” 

Oh. OH.

Dipper blushed in realisation, but that made the blond even more suspicious, his eyes glowing yellow in preparation to incinerate a particular fleshbag in the vicinity, not knowing that that particular fleshbag was, in fact, him.

“Um. Er. Uh. It was, uh, for you.” Dipper answered, hoping Bill would catch the drift through his incoherency.

But Bill definitely did. Face red as a berry, the blond stuttered momentarily, then stared at the grass where the darkened remnants of the once sparkly card lay.

“Oh.” He sounded forlorn.

Dipper was quick to reassure him. “It’s okay! No use being sad anymore,” he tried gently.

Bill glanced up at him, peering through his eyelashes. ‘You don’t understand,” he muttered miserably, the despair so tangible it made the brunet squirm.

He never knew this side to Bill. The side where Bill actually gave a care to emotions, capable of feeling remorse over his actions. It was not often that Bill exposed himself like this, deeming emotions lame and boring beyond death, but perhaps Bill did feel them occasionally. Perhaps Bill does have some redeeming qualities of him in regards of empathy and not being a total sociopath.

“Could’ve turned whoever sent me that card into my personal worshipper.”

 

Dipper’s eyebrows shot up, red flags waving high and proud at the back of his mind.

Never mind. He’s taking it back.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you enjoyed it!


End file.
